Panes of Glass, alt vs ch 8,9, 10
by Trixter82
Summary: This is an alternative version of what happens in chapter 8, 9 and 10 of my story panes of glass. Mrated for a little controversy.
1. Chapter 8

Alternative version of the events in chapter 8-10 of Panes of Glass. Mrated for a tiny little controversial topic, no smut. I have actually a piece of rather ungraphic r/m smut in a Mrated version of chapter 4 of this story, but I haven't put that up on If you want me 2, you can tell me and I'll post it somewhere. Probably under this story, since it really isn't a story at all, just a different version of some chapters.

Chapter 8 in this version is almost like chapter 8 in the normal version, the story is just slightly altered in some places. Chapter 9 will be completely different and chapter 10 will be partly different, partly the same.

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Chapter 8:

Choices 

"_Jag såg bjälken I mitt öga men sådan insikt hjälper föga."_

_("I saw the (wood) beam in my eye, but such insight doesn't help much.")_

_/Lars Winnerbäck_

Life. Right now Marian though it felt much like trying to run trough a waist-deep lake. You struggled so hard to get ahead but every step seemed to be hindered by dark, cold masses of water, her feet sucked into the slippery mud.

She was in her room in the castle, with the faint rustling from the bored guard outside her door and the occasional swallow diving by her window as her only company. It had been known to happen from time to time that Robin came on an unexpected visit, leaping down from her ceiling or materialising out of the shadows. He came and went in a smoke cloud, she didn't see him arriving and he left as if he had never been there in the first place, little precious fleeting moments. And that was all they had. Random scheming, random kisses, random bickering and off he went with another cheeky grin. He was Mr Charming one moment and the next a troubled warrior with the weight of the world heavy on his shoulders. She savoured those moments, couldn't walk into her room without scanning every little corner after a sign of her lover, yet they somehow always left her feeling unsatisfied. It wasn't enough. She would wait for days for him, perfecting what she needed to tell him in her head, and then when he was standing in front of her it never turned out as she had planned. She got sucked into his problems while her own fell to pieces, and then they were forgotten until he was gone and it was too late to tell him anything.

Marian felt queasy and tired and watched her reflection in the mirror, her face pale and the eyes puffy and red. She treaded her fingers trough the hair and sighed, thinking that it would take a man very much in love to find her pretty now. Not that it mattered, Robin hadn't been around for days and last time she saw him he was troubled and distracted. A knock on the door made her flinch and turn away from her sad reflection.

"Come in," she said and put on an aloof little smile.

The door creaked open and Allan-a-Dale swaggered in with his usual innocent grin.

"Hey," he greeted her. "Just came to say I'm out 'ere... watching or whatever. Taking over from the guard for a while… Best place to sleep on the job really, not being funny but nice touch to put that cushioned stool outside your door..."

Marian smiled. "I do like it when my guards sleep on the job," she said and then hesitated for a while before she added. "Do you want a plum Allan? Some wine perhaps?"

Allan cocked an eyebrow and closed the door behind him, walking into the room. "Don't mind if I do," he said. "You want a little company?"

"I want a little information," she responded with a frown briefly passing over her features as a shadow. "Allan what is it like… the camp?"

"You should know," Allan said absently and picked up a sun-warmed plum from a bowl on the windowsill. "You've been there."

"Yes, but I haven't lived there. And you have. I was wondering, is it… well-sheltered? Safe? Warm?"

"It's rather comfy… Yeah," he hesitated a while. "Like a draughty cottage," he admitted. "Good enough for shepherds good enough for outlaws."

"But it keeps out the cold?!" Marian exclaimed. Her breathing was fast and a bit strained as if she was out of breath. "And food - is there food?"

"Alright, alright, calm down…" Allan turned to her and took a bite of the juicy plum. His voice was muffled by the food when he continued. "It is cold you know, never enough to eat… but it is…"

"Comfy?" Marian scoffed and Allan suddenly became aware of the silent screaming despair in her face. He knew that look, he had seen it reflected in blank surfaces and every time he washed his face in a bowl of water. It was the look of someone who was running out of options and didn't know what to do. He swallowed and put down the rest of the half-eaten fruit on the windowsill.

"Hey are you alright there Maz?" he asked carefully and she gave him a cringing smile.

"Maz?" she said with a snorting laughter. "You take liberties… I'm fine, just a bit queasy. Something I ate perhaps."

"You're not sick? You want me to get Robin for you?"

"That is hardly an option," she said smiling bitterly. "I'm fine... I am… I'm just…"

"Woo… you're not pregnant!?" Allan had called out the thought as soon as it hit him as a vaguely possible option, but as soon as it left his lips he knew that it was true. It was written all over her face, the way she flinched and stared at him completely taken aback.

Marian sighed and sat down on a small wooden stool, leaning her elbow against a table and resting her head in her palm. "Oh God…" she exclaimed in a hushed voice. "Yes…"

"How long?" Allan said, his tone soft and a bit puzzled by the revelation.

"I don't know… I mean does it matter?" He realised that she was crying, yet she smiled through the tears and laughed bitterly. "A few weeks," she said. She had her fist pressed hard against her abdomen, pushing it as if she could force the unwanted foetus to sink back and go away.

"It doesn't show," he reassured her.

"It will," she laughed. Her father is still in the dungeons, Allan thought. The child won't survive in the forest. Sir Guy will kill her if he finds out. She is stuck. Marian straightened her back and rose from the chair, nervously arranging her jewels in neat rows on the table. "You don't seem that upset," she said, her carefully crafted façade back up even though it was flaking and had cracks in the veneer.

"Nah, not my thing really," Allan answered with a small smile. "Anyway, where I come from these things happen."

"Has it happened to you?"

Allan snorted and threw out his arms, displaying the flat chest and rather less flat areas further south. He let his gaze flickered down over his body and then back up to Marian with cocked eyebrows.

"Not being funny but I think you're missing something 'ere."

"You know what I mean! It takes two to tango Allan."

"How should I know? It's not like they come with a label mind you… Come to think of it that would be practical wouldn't it? 'Descendant of Allan-a-Dale'… Better throw that sod down the well before 'e learns to talk…"

"Is that what they do? Throw them down the well… When they can't… you know."

Allan frowned and watched Marian, wondering if she was mocking him. But the noble woman only looked questioning and a bit nervous, tensely awaiting his answer.

"Well… It happens alright? Some leave 'em by the church… Some… well you know. There are other ways if you know who to ask." He looked at her, hesitating for a while. He was not a moral man but he was practical and empathetic, and Lady Marian was a woman deep in trouble. "You know I could help you," he said carefully. "If you need an option."

"How?" she exclaimed disbelieving, her eyes dimmed once again by desperate tears.

"Well…" he sighed. This was such a bad idea. "Listen… This is no good for a lady like you alright? They're not your kind… They're good lasses don't get me wrong. Just different, yeah? They do stuff differently down there… In the gutter or whatever."

"I think you will find I am beyond 'kinds' now…"

"Well I'm just saying… They got ways. There's this lady called Mistress Aud, she… helps."

"She could help me?"

"Yeah… She could, if I took you to her. You'd have to pay though."

"What pay you?" she snorted.

"Not me! Her! You pay her and she… does her thing."

"Well…" Marian frowned, trying to get a grip around this new, unsettling option "But is it safe?"

"Well you know…" Allan shrugged. "Is it safe to have it though?"

That was the core of the problem. It wasn't safe, not any of it. This wasn't a time for children, not with the king away and the child's father outlawed. Not with her in house-arrest and her own father in the dungeons. The forest might be romantic, so long had it worked as a symbol of freedom for Marian that she imagined it a merry place far away from the grim reality of Nottingham politics. But she wasn't naïve, in the end she knew that a life in the forest would be harsh. Little food to share, constantly hunted and on the run and when winter came it would get worse. This was in a time when the forests of England were wild and savage places, and the winters were cold under deep, silent snow with flocks of wolves roaming the white death for easy prey. The sheriff was clever enough to know what hardships the winter would bring to the outlaws. There would be dogs and in the end you couldn't outrun them, not with the tracks in the snow, so you would have to stay in the trees or underground, hiding in caves or huts. No the winter wouldn't be easy, it would be a time to freeze and starve and run for the outlaws. As for a pregnant woman? A newborn baby? For them the forest would be a place to die when the ground froze and the hunt was on.

"The child will come in the winter," Marian said and Allan gave her a rather sad crocked smile. "I thought… I was hoping that the king would come back before that. But he won't, will he?"

"Nah I think the bets are through the roof on that one. Sorry."

"Not you fault…" Marian said automatically, then hesitated and added. "Not_completely_ your fault."

Allan looked down to avoid her accusing eyes, but then he realised that the young noble woman seemed only barely aware of his presence in the room. She had paced over to the window and gazed out over the dark green trees of the forest, longing for something that would never be real - a dream that both broke her down and kept her alive. It went on forever, mile after mile of trees turning the horizon into a fluffy green cloud. Somewhere in there her salvation, or somewhere under those harmless leaves her demise. Love and tragedy were so tightly intertwined as the ivy hugs the oak, and it strung a chord in Allan's chest to see Marian's silent desperation.

It could be debated for years what kind of man Allan-a-Dale was, a traitor with a soul so cheap it could be sold at The Trip to Jerusalem inn, but as he stood before Marian Fitzwalter on this cruel day it was with a genuine empathy and honest will to help her. Thus it was with every good intention that he offered her his assistance, rooted in his own background where this solution seemed a little less dramatic. Among the sleepers and barmaids unplanned pregnancy was a disaster that happened from time to time, and where there is a market there will eventually materialize someone supplying the desired service. In Nottingham her name was Mistress Aud, she was despised as a hangman and just as feared, but with that also came a tremendous amount of disgusted respect. She would have been burned a long time ago if it wasn't for the fact that she was needed, not only to the trashiest of the human trash but also occasionally to daughters of more respectable men. People spat at her in the market but came crawling as subdued slaves before her when disaster struck down as a flaming spear of thunder and lightning. She was one of those people that were the object of a collective guilt, they all knew that she shouldn't be living amongst them, yet it was an embarrassing but unmistakable fact that she did, and in the end no one did anything about it.

"Looks nice from up here doesn't it?" Allan said and went to stand with Marian by the window. "All the people… Tiny little dots."

"Yes," she agreed and smiled. The guards seemed like toy soldiers down on the court yard, the spears harmless little twigs in their hands. "They all got routines," Marian suddenly blurted out and leaned out a bit to see the yard better. "The washing maids… The farmers coming with deliveries. The soldiers… They always take the same routes, like a life is just made out of a series of habits. That girl," Marian pointed down to a maid that was carrying a big basket with cloth. "Her name is Erin. Every day she crosses the yard to go with the linen to the washing areas, and she always walks in the shadows even if the day is grey or it means that she has to take a long detour. And you see that stout guard over there, the one that glances up to the western wing? He is looking for someone up there, sometimes he will see what it is he is searching for and he will stand over there by the tower, where he is hidden under the straw roofs, and just watch."

"What do you think he's looking for?" Allan said curiously, captured by Marian's little peeking game and all these people that he'd never given a fleeting thought.

Marian shrugged. "I don't know. Perhaps he is in love with some maid. I'm just thinking… Life goes on... People are born and live and go by their little habits and die. History will never remember most of them. A life means so very little."

"Nah I don't know about that," Allan said. "Look, that maid, Erin right? I bet she means stuff to loads of people."

"I'm sure she does… But what about the bigger picture Allan?" Marian said with a frown. "We are tiny little dots, you said it…"

"Not being funny but I said _they_ were tiny little dots. You look rather big to me."

Marian smiled. "My point is that most things we do doesn't matter. We're just little dots going about our business. But what Robin does is important. It is about the future of England."

Allan saw her putting a hand on her belly, cupping it a little as if the child was taking up room there already, and then gingerly graze the green wool almost absently.

"Don't worry," he said with a grin that could be either disarming or provoking. "You don't _look_ fat."

Marian gave him a sharp look but then she relaxed and started to laugh lightly. "Allan, do you get slapped a lot by the women you meet by any chance?" she smirked.

"Well you know…" he shrugged with a grin.

Marian smiled and rubbed roughly over the dress, as if she tried to erase the shadow of her own tender touch, and straightened her back with a look of determination. "Anyway," she said. "What Robin does matters, it matters for a lot of people. But if he knew bout this then this would matter more."

"You think?" Allan cocked an eye brow in disbelief. "He really likes that king of his mind you."

"It is your king also," Marian chided him. "Even if you seem to have forgotten it. And I am sure - Robin would leave all that to save me and the child. I do not want him to do that, yet he will… He will not listen."

"Yeah it must be a real problem to be loved like that…" Allan muttered. "Look, you want me to help you or what?"

Marian studied him and Allan got an eerie feeling of looking into Robin's eyes, honest, astute and strangely intimate. "Why?" she said. "Why would you help me Allan?"

He shrugged. "I think the little dots matter… Listen, you need help and I want to help you alright? I got a little good in me as well..."

"I'm sure you do but that is not it is it?"

Allan frowned. He felt uneasy, Marian's manners were unsettling for him and his last meeting with Djaq had been…. _Djaq_. If there was another reason then she was it, it all came down to those big soulful eyes. The mere thought made his heard pound faster and his skin felt animated where she had last touched it. One embrace and a night of watching her from afar, watching all of them from afar... "I want back," he said with a voice that sounded weak and dejected. "You're Robin's lass… Not being funny but if I help you… you know…"

"You want to be the good guy again?" Marian scoffed a bit harsher than she had intended. "Just like that? I wave my magic wand and everything is forgotten? You are more naive than I thought… If Robin knew… if he knew that I am even considering this then I'm not sure he would forgive even me."

"Not being funny but you could get away with murder, Robin loves you."

"This is worse than murder…" Marian mumbled under her breath. "To him this will be much worse than murder, I'm sure of it..."

"Well anyway… We won't tell him right? Look, you just put in a good word or two, he listens to you."

"I can't make him take you back Allan. To be honest I'm not even sure I want to… He is right not to trust you."

"But I'm not expecting redemption!" Allan suddenly exclaimed, and threw out his arms in frustration. "I just want it to be enough!"

"Marian frowned, puzzled by the sudden emotional outburst. "Enough?" she said. "Enough for what Allan?"

"Well…. You know. Enough not to get killed next time I meet him… A little truce or whatever," Allan mumbled and shied away from Marian's intensive stare.

"A little truce?" she said disbelievingly. _Drop it_, Allan thought, but she knew that it was more he wasn't telling her and she wasn't one to yield. No wonder she was such a good source of information for Robin.

"Look," he sighed. "It's simple enough alright? I just want to be able to see my old mates."

Marian continued to stare at him.

"One mate actually," he mumbled. "In particular."

Marian went over to the little table, pored up a glass of wine, cocked her eyebrow and continued to stare at him.

"Djaq… actually…"

Marian titled her head, smiled and stared at him.

"I think I love her," he mumbled with his ears burning. "There, I said it. Not being funny but you're bleedin' good at this…"

Marian went over, gave him the glass of wine and continued to stare at him with her arms folded.

"You want her," she stated finally with a rather mysterious smile.

"Well… Yeah," he shrugged and drank the wine in one gulping sweep. He felt dizzy and a bit queasy, and realised that he'd just given away exactly how nervous he was. The trickster in him blushed with embarrassment.

"What if I can't give that to you Allan? This has to be a secret…" Marian said with a tone that was soft and strangely detached. She had already put up an emotional wall between herself and this decision, forcing herself to be rational as she had done so many times before.

"Look, I will do it anyway," Allan said and gave her one of his innocent a-Dale looks. "It would be a nice bonus that's all."

"As opposed to the usual bonus of pain and misery," Marian mumbled bitterly. "Yes," She took a deep breath and let out a resigned sigh. "We do it, I will… It is the best way."

"You want my help?" Allan said to make sure he got everything right.

"Yes, I do… Will you help me?"

"Not being funny but I said I would didn't I?"

"Glad to hear you're a man of your word," she snorted with a sarcastically raised eyebrow. "I would like to be alone now if you don't mind…"

"Sure… I'll just go sleep on the job then," Allan grinned and left the room with a little half-bow in her general direction. When he came to the door he halted for a moment, turning to her with his hand on the doorknob and a knowing smirk in his face. "And oh by the way," he added mischievously. "If Robin comes… keep it down will you?" He winked at her and disappeared out into the corridor before she had time to throw anything hard at him.

Marian stood for a while and watched the place where Allan had been standing, her heart beating nervously in her chest.

"What have I done?" she mumbled to herself and paced over to the window with her arms folded as if she was cold, even though the shudders that ran trough her body had very little to do with the weather. "What am I about to do… God forgive me…" There was still a half-eaten plum on the windowsill and she took it between her fingers, pushing the window shutters open and plunged the fruit into the air. It floated for a while, spinning in a graceful arch against the blue sky, and then lost height and fell helplessly to the caste yard. You could live free and die fast, but such a vain dream it was when gravity would take its toll in the end. She sighed and closed the window, trapping a green curtain between the shutter and the frame, and went to rest in the soft, warm bed of her comfortable prison.


	2. Chapter 9

**So, this is the M-rated version of this chapter. It is completely different to th T-rated one.**

**Someone asked me about reading order if you read both the T-rated and M-rated versions. Well, this version is the original but it doesn't really matter. They don't depend on each other at all.**

**Someone else asked what was different between the T-rated and M-rated versions of the last chapter. Well, one may wonder :lol: Nah actually I think it is mainly the part where Marian agrees to try Allan's 'solution' that is different. In the T-rated version she just snaps that she will pretend that he didn't suggest that, while in the M-tared version she agrees. Also, the T-rated version is longer because I added some conversation about other solutions. **

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Chapter 9:

Mistress Aud and Mr Plum

It was the biggest cat Marian had ever seen, large enough to swallow an average city cat whole, much like the cows in the bible. The fur was ragged, black with the occasional grey hair to reveal his old age. He had scars from all the battles of his lifetime and wore them like trophies; the half-ear with bite marks still visible, the tail that was nothing but a thick, slightly crooked stub, the left eye that was white and stared blindly at the surroundings. This was the King of Cats (in fact, he might even be the King of Dogs as well) and he had earned his position by claws and teeth, ferociously fighting his way to the top and succumbing all opposition. Marian did not want to know what his opponents looked like, but she had a vague feeling that some of them might be the reason to his current state of obesity.

Marian and Allan watched in silence as the black monster sauntered slowly over the floor of Mistress Aud's cottage, and granted the newcomers a low purr to show that their presence in his realm was noted and accepted. Marian hesitated a little before she reached down to stroke him over the back.

"Don't be daft," Allan exclaimed in a hushed voice. "Not being funny but he'll bite your hand off!"

"It's just a cat," Marian said and tried to ignore the trembling in her fingers as she felt the cat's thick, sharp spine under her palm. "I have fought off guards." Was it only horses that could feel fear or did the same apply for cats? "Look, he is quite harmless."

Allan took a step away from the cat that now purred quite loudly under Marian's gentle touch, and looked around the room. It was as you would expect it, filled with old rubbish (Allan's definition of most things un-stealable), jars filled with God knows what took up most of the shelves and bundles of dusty dried herbs hung from the ceiling. The dirt from the street danced in the air and caught the yellow rays from the only window opening, making it impossible to ignore how dry every breath left your mouth. This was hardly a cosy living quarter but it probably served its purpose.

"Mistress Aud," Allan called out, and almost instantly a woman walked right through the wall and into the room. He flinched at first, the word 'witch' forming in the more irrational parts of his brain, but then squinted into the dusk behind her and realised that there must be an adjoining room with a rust red curtain as the only door. "Hey," he greeted her and she nodded before she went over to a bench and began to shuffle things around. For the casual observer most chores a woman does in her home can seem as simply shuffling things around, and Allan didn't give it much further thought. "Mistress Aud I presume, right?" he asked and got another nod in response.

"Be seated," Aud said, and made it sound more like a command than an invitation. "Nearly done 'ere."

Marian had truly not known what to expect of this woman who the street ladies called Mistress Aud, but it was certainly noting like the person who now stood before her. Firstly she was too young, in truth not much older than Marian herself. Secondly she looked… well _tidy_, was the only word Marian could think of. The ash-blonde hair was tied up in braids and tucked into a strict bun in her neck, leaving the long, thin throat shining white and frail, and she wore clean, neat clothing. She had the pale Nordic blondness that you sometimes saw in the descendants of the Danes, and the tall, slim body would have been beautiful if it wasn't for the sharp edges. As it was the white skin strained over the shallow bones, giving her an almost skeletal appearance. Finally she turned to them and Marian gazed into the hardest, coldest eyes she had ever seen. It was not merely the pale blueness that did it, but there seemed to be so much of it, and the ash-blonde eyelashes and brows were almost invisible in the general pastiness of her face. Even though the room was dark her pupils remained tiny and the eyes were so wide that she had an expression of constantly staring at the person she turned to. She was silent so Marian took a deep breath and decided she would have to raise the subject.

"They say you… fix things," she said, her voice a bit hoarse and strained. She felt guilty about being here, knew that she was about to condemn herself and sacrifice her immortal soul for more pressing, earthly matters. But perhaps God would show her mercy - after all she had already broken more rules than she had obeyed. At least this was a sin she could repent, regret and beg for forgiveness. "Woman's things?" she continued. "If you have a problem, one that leaves you with little choice."

Aud looked at her calmly. "Ay," she said.

"Oh… Good. I will pay you well of course. And… well sooner rather than later would be a good time as any?"

"We can do it now," the pale woman responded, her voice unmoved and disinterested.

"Now?!" Marian exclaimed and looked over to Allan. He shrugged his shoulders at her - this was her choice not his.

"Ay, is that not soon enough for the Lady?" Mistress Aud said and began to rummage through the mess of pots and pans that covered what might be interpreted as her kitchen.

"Yes…" She hesitated a little before she continued. "But I would like… I would very much like to know… The… the…"

"The child," Aud filled in without posing it as a question.

"Yes, the child… What happens when… what happens to it?"

"There is a place for the souls of unborn," Aud said in a voice that made it sound like it was a ready response, worn out by all the times she had used it to reassure the young sinners who sought her services.

"Oh… Good. And the… the remains?" Marian continued with a pang of guilt. It was what she had in mind when she asked her question in the first place; the… body… of her unborn child occupied her thoughts before any musings over the soul invaded them.

"It is flesh," Aud said. "Naught but flesh, and hardly even that."

"But what happens to it!?" Marian insisted as Aud bent down to call the big black cat over. Surely not…

Mistress Aud looked up and caught the look of pure horror in the young woman's face. "Not to worry Lady," she said. "Mr Plum prefers his food alive."

The cat, apparently called Mr Plum, purred and stroked his big black body against his human's leg (it is a fact that every cat owner knows that the cat is never actually _your _cat – it is merely you that are _his_ human).

"You may keep the little bundle of flesh if I can find it, I have no use for it," Aud said. This was not entirely true, since Mistress Aud had a rather shady of business deal with a woman of even more dubious profession than her own. The widow Leigh made a living by selling remedies to people who had tried everything and failed, a shameful last resort for the utterly desperate. The little bundle's of flesh that Mistress Aud sometimes offered her were a very potent ingredient to some of the _fertility-related_ mixtures. Still, this woman looked noble and would pay good enough to more than make up for that little extra income.

"I wouldn't know what to do with it…"

"Well I could bury it," Allan blurted out before he thought much about his words. "I mean… Look that is what they do when the baby dies before he's baptised, right? They wait 'til it's dark and put 'im in the church wall… or whatever."

Marian smiled faintly and nodded somewhere in between gratitude and disgust, too tired to dare consider the inappropriate in the situation. "Fine," she said and put on a brave smile, as if this was an easy decision merely taking up some of her precious time. "How do we do this?"

"You sit and wait until I'm ready," Mistress Aud said rather impatiently. She was already turned away from them, rummaging trough the pots and jars and mumbling to herself as a person packing for a long journey.

Djaq and Allan sat silently and waited uncomfortably as Aud went about her business, shooting each other random glances as the odd smell from Aud's mixture became a stench that made Marian feel nauseous and Allan breathe through his mouth. Mr Plum had leaped up to Marian's knee and lay heavy over her thighs, purring while she scratched him absently behind the ragged ear. Allan gave the cat a wary look when it stretched out its big body and landed a paw full of crooked yellow claws gently on his leg.

"Right… You done there yet Aud? Audie?" he called out nervously and pushed himself away from the menacing animal.

"Men," Aud sighed. "Always impatient… Ay, not long now."

She waved to Marian to follow her over to a wooden table and gestured for her to lie down on it. Marian watched the table with a slight shudder; there were still faint traces of old blood stains that had been sucked into the wood much like on a butcher's work bench. Something in her screamed that it was wrong to lie displayed like this on a low table, spread out as an animal in the slaughterhouse ready to be chopped up. She got a rather paranoid feeling of the world watching her, standing around this fallen woman who was paying the price of her sins by committing an even bitter sin. They watched and whispered like the audience of one of the sheriff's hangings, and the fantasies slowly spiralled out of control and became absurd. The people were already chewing on candid apples when Aud finally ripped her out from her musings.

"Your man will have to wait outside," she said and looked over to Allan.

"He is not my man…" Marian explained as if it really mattered. "He is a… friend."

It was impossible not to notice the hesitant break before she used the word 'friend' and Allan felt a pang in his chest. This was Robin's woman and he was still nothing but the traitor to them. This only made him a useful traitor, someone who wouldn't mind putting all morals aside and help her out of her peril. It suited her that he was bad and unreliable, knowing that he wouldn't give her away to Robin or judge her for her actions. He's a thug but he's our thug - that kind of thinking was more common in Nottingham that decent citizens would admit. He sighed and gave Marian a smile that he hoped was encouraging before he left the room for the street. There was an old bench out there, worn by all the men that had came there with daughters or lady friends while expecting Aud to wipe out their problems. At least the nasty cat was nowhere to be seen, Allan thought and leaned back to the slightly damp wall of Aud's cottage.

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Allan though Marian looked pale when she came out from Mistress Aud's house. She had her skirts gathered up in her hand to walk more easily, pushing her arm against her stomach and bending forward a little so that her posture seemed strangely crooked and strained. She tried to pretend it didn't bother her, reached over a piece of bundled up linen cloth to Allan without a word and avoided to meet his eyes. It seemed odd and out of character, Lady Marian focusing on a spot on his cheek when she spoke to him, and she smiled tensely as she limped her way along the many streets of sorrow. It was always muddy here, the alleys narrow and stinking and paved with planks, so that you didn't have to sink ankle-deep into something that might be partly privy waste.

"Are you alright Lady M?" Allan finally said a bit warily. She had slowed her pace and stood leaned against a wall, breathed heavily with a look of pain in her eyes that she couldn't quite disguise.

"Yes," she smiled. "Fine."

"We could go to The Black Sheep," he said. "Get a pint or whatever. I live there, have a little room over the tavern you know… I was thinking you could get a little rest in my bed before we get back to the castle…"

Marian opened her mouth to say that she was fine, straightened her back and pushed away from the wall that supported her, but her smile was broken by a sharp gasp. Then Allan watched in horror as Marian bent forward and collapsed helplessly into his arms.


	3. Chapter 10

**Here cometh the M-rated version. Well it is mainly different in the first one or two flashbacks.**

**Comments are love.**

**love/ Trix **

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Chapter 10:

To fall or rise

It was so late that it was early or so early that it was late when Allan felt the horse's hooves throwing up turfs of fine Sherwood soil under him. The sound of little birds, sitting in clusters or joyful solitude on the ancient branches was loud in the otherwise alien silence. He had gotten used to the city, the sound and smell of people all around, and this was no longer his world. Allan-a-Dale was no sovereign of Sherwood. These days the sound of the birds reminded him of sheriff Vaysey's study, but the sound was different here. The space was bigger, the distances between the birds longer, and it made the singing seem deeper and richer. The sensation of the forest's mere size echoed through the light-hearted singing, and it felt eerie and a bit frightening to Allan who was used to confined spaces.

The light was fresh and soft this early in the morning, the air crisp. It had been raining heavily and the ground was still damp and smelled muskier than when it was dry, the earthy scent mixed with the smells from the green foliage. There were droplets hanging from the leaves, falling gently to the ground as gravity took its toll, and from time to time Allan brushed by a branch that showered him with tiny wet beads of chilly rainwater. The setting was beautiful; Sherwood Forest sparkled in her morning gown, newly washed with veils of fog still hugging around the tree trunks. And it seemed cruel, immensely cruel, that the world just didn't care about the pain despair in Allan as he darted through the wood.

He wanted to scream to the stupid birds to shut up, but the tweeters and chirps continued to haunt him and made an absurd background to the memories of the night.

_He had not expected her to fall like that, a noble woman collapsing into the gutter like a harlot or a boozer when she should have been safe by then. He had expected it to be over as soon as they left Mistress Aud, because even though he could comprehend that the decision was hard he never gave a fleeting thought to the aftermath. Consequences weren't Allan's best side, he tended to ignore them until he was in the middle of it and let the world fill up with regrets. Yet in that alley he didn't feel regret, it was too soon for that. First he simply sensed a perplexed surprise, the thought 'she is falling, why is she falling?' making a trail of question marks all over his face. Then came the fear, the feeling of awe that followed a general sensation of something being horribly wrong. She had fallen into his arms, and it had taken him with too much surprise for him to prepare himself for the extra weight. Instead he slumped back a bit, shifted his body forward to regain his balance and saw her slipping down into the stinking mud. _

"_Marian?" he said. "Wha' happened?" _

_She seemed to stir a bit, blinked and put down her hand into a grimy yellow puddle to steady herself. The sucking sound of the mud hugging around her hand was sickening, and it made a puff of reeking odour trickle up into the air between them. _

"_Are you alright?" Allan said again. "You need to rest a bit? A pint… Some food… My bed…"_

_Marian managed to give him a sharp glare and Allan grinned at her._

"_Look, you'd be alone in my bed obviously," he continued, and saw her head bend down. She nodded. And that was the exact moment that Allan knew something was seriously wrong. She shouldn't nod. Fainting, that was fine. Noblewomen fainted from time to time, it was only natural. But nodding instead of chastising him? Be exhausted and agree when he expected her to sneer? He felt fear gripping his stomach and allowed himself to step back a little, mentally speaking, to study the situation. She had staggered, bent double and fallen into his arms and then down into the mud when he failed to catch her properly. She looked pale and in pain. He noticed now that she was clutching the cloth by her abdomen, her knuckles white in the fading light, and she was rocking her body back and forth._

"_It hurts?" he said._

_She lifted her head and met his eyes with a faint smile, but he could see the despair in her eyes screaming louder than a battle cry. "Yes," she said. _

"_Yeah well…" What should he say!? He was a man - he wasn't equipped for handling situations like this. "I'm sure it's to be expected though isn't it? I mean I wouldn't worry too much…" His voice trailed off as she removed her hand and he could see a dark spot on her dress. "Is that… mud?" _

_Marian shook her head. "I'm bleeding," she said in a strained voice. "A lot. I think I should lie down somewhere…"_

"_But that is normal though isn't it? I mean with the baby away mind you, you might expect something… I've heard."_

"_Through the linen? Through the dress? Through…" Marian gasped and gave out a little moan of pain._

"_Right," Allan said, and then his normally so sly mind went blank. _

They had been wasting time! As Allan continued to spur on the horse through the forest that was what plagued him the most. At every single choice he had to make he had doubted. How do you choose a path when all seems equally bad?! He had been sitting in the gutter with Marian as darkness fell over the city and the different choices lined up in his head. Go back to the castle with her. Take her to The Black Sheep. Leave her here and go for help. Go back to Mistress Aud. Even as he picked her up he had doubted, walking with her leaning heavily against him, her muddy clothes reeking. She didn't speak but he could hear that she was in pain. It was in the way she moaned when he walked too fast for her, he could hear it in the strained breathing and feel it in her tense body.

The horse leaped over a fallen tree trunk and Allan started to regret his choice of route. This forest was wild and savage off the beaten track, admittedly much to the advantage of those hiding in it, but it made his panicking race erratic and perilous. Time. There wasn't enough! But would it have been enough had he done everything right? Had it really mattered if he hadn't stopped to talk with Lot at The Black Sheep? He had been so confused by then, filled with adrenaline from the fear that the consequences of helping Marian might be both her demise and his.

"_You're getting 'lucky' tonight matey?"_

_Allan let his eyes flicker around the room. This was Black Sheep alright, dark as ever but the fireplace was out so there was rather less smoke in the air than on cold nights. He felt bewildered and confused, a feeling that only was amplified by Lot Twittle's improper words coming from his usual corner. It was so ordinary and expected, yet that was exactly what made it feel so utterly wrong. It didn't seem right that the world was behaving normal in a time like this. Marian's weight was heavy against Allan though she seemed to have drifted off again, and clung to him rather like a baby grips around anything put in its palm. _

"_Wha'?" he said to Lot's question, aware that the man spoke but shut the actual meaning of the words out. Jess Littlelamb was nowhere to be seen. _

"_She's a looker her," Lot continued and grinned at the pale, exhausted Marian. "A dunk looker, ay that's the best kind. You think she'd consider seconds?" _

"_Wha'?!" Allan exclaimed again, a bit absentmindedly. He had a vague comprehension of what Lot was talking about but was to busy scanning the room for its owner to give him much attention. _

"_Well ya know," Lot rambled on. "It's been a while… A bloke like me… Mates share, that's all I'm saying… mate." Allan suddenly turned to him and realised that the boozer had the greedy, lustful look he usually reserved for the first free pint of the evening. _

"_Listen," Allan restrained himself from the urge to drop Marian and smash Lot Twittle's head against the wall. "Back off or I'll knock out that lonely tooth in your face alright? Not that you need it," he scoffed, "being on a strictly fluid diet…Now where is Jess?" _

"_Jess?" Lot peered at him, as usually rather impressively unmoved by the scorn and plain threats thrown at him. "So one isn't 'nuff huh? My mate Allan-a-Dale… Stud," he grinned. "Rumours 'ave it you swinging the other way you know…"_

"_Yeah you started those rumours!" Allan exclaimed annoyed. He had been rather amused about the tales of 'him and a boy… his cousin… kissing and stuff' in the beginning, but that kind of rumour easily gets unpleasant when it evolves from the puppy-state. Rumours were a lot like wild animals in that way. You adopted them when they were small and cute, but then they grew and evolved into huge untamed monsters with teeth as kitchen knives, and started to eat the neighbour's children. "Where is Jess!?" Allan said with a bit more force. "I need 'er! Now!!!" _

"_Allan?" Jess Littlelamb came out from the kitchen, then halted and took in the scene. "Lot don't bother my customers," she continued with a sort of mild authority and put away the wooden spoon she had been carrying. Lot reacted to the soft words as if they burned him and crawled away into a corner, leaving Jess to stare steadily at Allan and Marian. _

"_Look," Allan said. "It's not what it looks like alright?"_

"_It never is with you," Jess responded calmly. "Allan I will not make any questions. I will not judge or draw any conclusions. I will help you and your friend."_

_The relief flushed over Allan and he opened his mouth to pour his gratitude at her. This wasn't only his problem any longer! Someone else was involved, someone that would know what to do! For the first time since Marian fell he felt a faint hope that it might work out after all. _

"_I am not finished yet," Jess interrupted him before he had a chance to thank her. "This is not a convent, I do not sell mercy. If she stains a sheet then you replace it. Whatever is used or destroyed in any way will be paid for." Jess Littlelemb was firm when it came to matters of money since it was the only way to stay afloat in her line of work. You couldn't be kind and maintain a successful business. "Are we agreed?"_

_Allan swallowed and nodded severely. This was not a time for jokes. _

"_Good," Jess said. "You are lucky business is slow tonight. I'll help you carry her up to your room."_

Allan had halted the racing horse, the pounding of its hooves against the ground for a moment replaced by his own thudding heart. He felt out of breath, his body exhausted and the horse in a terrible condition. The animal bent down and drank greedily from the shallow stream that Allan knew as one of the mapping points for the forest. All trees look much the same to humans, and even other trees don't feel any need to tell each other apart very often. Thus you learned to know where you were by different water accumulations, changes in vegetation and anything that was somewhat stabile and carried some characteristics. He looked around and realised that he was further south than he expected, the stream was too wide. He tugged the reins of the tired horse, knowing that the animal would get sick if he drank too much too fast in this state, and started to steer him upriver. If he was right then he would be able to reach the camp within half an hour, and the thought made him hesitate in spite of being in such a hurry. This was unknown territory, he had no way to predict what awaited him at his destination and thus the future unfolded before him as a gaping black hole. We usually have an idea where our lives are heading but Allan didn't even know where his life had been lately. The only thing he felt sure of was that this was what he had to do, and he had to do it fast. He had spurred the horse into a gallop again, and his feet were wet with the clear water from the stream splashing up in fountains as the hooves broke the calm surface.

_Allan had been standing in a corner most of the time since Jess offered to help. He felt useless in this setting, couldn't be any comfort to Marian and her body was a mystery to him even on the outside. Who knew what was behind a human's skin? There were blood for sure, and Allan had always imagined it to be much like a sponge soaked in water under the surface. The skin somehow kept it all together. Yet he had seen the inside of animals and knew that he was probably mistaken about the sponge. There were parts and objects of different shapes (and flavours, but he'd rather not consider that detail) inside, and somehow they must interact to make it all function. It was a miracle when you thought about it, something so complex only God could fully comprehend it. So what use was he? The tavern trickster._

_He saw Jess sit by Marian, gingerly examining her under the blankets. Then a sheet fell back and revealed a naked thigh, making Allan turn away with uncharacteristic respect for her virtue. He caught a glimpse of some blood smeared over the skin, no strange sight to a man used to battles but this was the blood of someone he cared for._

"_How is she?" he said in a hushed voice and both women turned to him. Marian's eyes seemed tired and a bit absent and she let her head roll back again without noting that she was, in fact, in the room as well. _

"_I have no medical training," Jess pointed out. "But there is too much blood. You should consider getting someone."_

"_Like a doctor?" Allan said. "Not being funny I don't trust them much…Neither does Lady M I reckon." _

"_Like a priest," Jess stated calmly. _

This was it, a shrubbery that he knew so well, and he dashed through it instead of letting the horse take a tiny detour to avoid the thorns. If he followed this smaller stream he would come to the pond where he first sought out Djaq, found her praying in her Saracen was and gave her the spices. The reminiscence made him smile in spite of the occasion not being particularly happy. The way her dark hair caught the sun. The first brief taste of her closeness. The odd smell of the spices that made her smile with nostalgia. He felt a moment's queasiness when he realised that it all started there, and somehow he knew he should be regretting the memory. Yet he couldn't. Whatever happened in this sordid story he couldn't regret giving happiness a chance. Happiness. That had never been a goal before. Surviving had been a goal. Prospering had been a goal. Happiness? He had always thought of that as a minor bonus to playing ones cards right. No one ever asked him '_Are you happy?_'. They asked him if he was proud of himself, or if he was satisfied. He wasn't proud. He wasn't satisfied. But for a brief moment in time he had been feeling happy.

The hooves sunk into the damp ground by the small creek and with fear making his body stiff he realised that he was nearly there…

"_Right…" Allan watched Marian. Priest. Damn it! A doctor would be preferable, and if he told Guy… No he couldn't tell Guy. He would kill Marian when he found out the reason for her condition. "Right," he said again. "Right… Well there is Djaq."_

"_Djaq?" Jess said absently as she picked up some stained sheets and put them in a basket. _

"_Yeah well… She is a doctor of sorts…"_

_Jess nodded. "Get her if you feel so inclined, but I would think it wiser to get her a priest. And is there someone she cares for? She should not be alone." The barmaid apparently knew enough about people to see that Marian and Allan were merely acquainted._

"_Robin," Allan said and nodded. "Yeah, 'im I should get… Mind you it will take some time."_

"_No!" Marian's eyes had shot open and she made an effort to wiggle herself up into a half-sitting position. "Allan, do not get Robin… Please, I beg you…" _

"_Look," Allan stated firmly. He was useless in all of this but Jess was right about one thing: Marian should not be alone. "You're weak now right? You're not thinking straight or whatever. I will get him."_

"_No…" Marian shook her head but she had sunk down onto the pillow again. The physical effort seemed to have made her exhausted, and she wept silently with her eyes aimed on something beyond this world. Then she furred her brow as if a thought hit her and turned to Allan again. "No…Yes," she said with a resigned smile. "I'm too proud. Perhaps you should get him." _

_Allan gave her a crooked grin before he dashed out from the little room, his heart in his throat as the chilly air of the small hours hugged around him. In spite of being practically outlawed by the outlaws he had to venture into Sherwood Forest._

The camp was only minutes away when Allan dismounted. There would be traps, and whatever he walked into he would prefer to be closer to the ground when it happened. He took a firm grip around his sword, then hesitated and backed a few feet again, deciding to leave all the weapons by the horse. Robin wouldn't kill an unarmed man. He felt almost certain about that. The leaves didn't rustle under his feet as he went, instead they made a wet sucking sound and he could feel his socks getting soaked through the thin leather soles. He watched the trees for any sign of the outlaws, then something tightened around his ankle and the world was turned upside down in one very swift swoop. First there was a snatching sound of a branch being released and he fell down on the damp ground, only to feel the pressure around his ankle strain even more and his foot disappeared up into the sky dragging the rest of his body with it.

It was difficult to read the outlaws' expressions as they moved in on him, his foot hurt from the rope holding his entire weight and the cloak had fallen down and draped around his head like a tablecloth.

"Is this your new doorbell?" he exclaimed and his little voice of reason gave him a resigned sigh. This was a very bad time for jokes, but he always joked when he was nervous. "Charming," he added. "Now let me down!"

"Let you down?!" Robin scoffed. "Now why would we want to do that?"

"Look, I'm unarmed, I come for a reason!"

"What reason?"

"Let me down first!" Allan tried to interpret Robin's upside-down expression, but he felt dizzy and nauseous as the rope rocked him back and forth like a windlass.

"Let him down!"

Allan felt a familiar tug in his stomach as Djaq's voice reached his ears. She was standing behind the other outlaws and he could only see a vaguely Djaq-formed shape, but there was something a bit tense and dejected about her appearance.

"He is unarmed and alone," she continued. "He will not harm us."

"Perhaps he's just bringing more spices," came Much's mocking voice.

"No spices!" Allan tried to lock his other foot around the rope to distribute his weight better but every time he moved he felt a burning pain in his ankle. "Listen Robin, it is Marian…"

"Marian?"

"I'm not saying more until you…"

There was the creaking sound of a bowstring, then Allan felt the rope give away over him and he fell down on his head with a thud. He experienced a moment's confusion when his body didn't know witch way was up in the world, then he crawled over to his side and started to rub his aching ankle.

"Don't move," Robin hissed and Allan could hear the bowstring stretch again. "What about Marian? Tell me now!"

"Yeah, yeah hold your horses," Allan mumbled. "Listen I don't want you to overreact alright…"

"Tell me!" An arrow hit the ground beside Allan's hand and he shied away from it.

"Alright, look mate. She had this… trouble. And I though I should help you know? I meant no harm!" He looked up at the outlaws' worried faces full of dread for what was about to follow, and swallowed hard. "The thing is she was with child…And she couldn't… So I know this lady… Mistress Aud… but then she just fell on the way back and there was blood Robin, so much blood! Look it is not my fault! She is on the Black Shee…"

Then it all happened so fast. Allan felt a blow to his jaw and fell back with a burning pain, suddenly aware of a weight over him. Somewhere in the distance there was a shrill yell from Djaq and then a hand clenched around the buckle on his cloak making it difficult to breathe. He stared up into Robin's eyes, saw the gaping insanity gazing back at him with pure unfiltered hate and realised that his chest was pinned down by his former leader's knee. Reasoning, how did you_ reason_ with Robin when the berserk in him had taken over? The simple truth was that you didn't, not unless you were Marian and she wasn't here now. She may never be here again. Allan felt his head pound to the ground, be lifted up and plunged down again in forceful rhythmic motions like the beating of a drum. There was sky and trees bobbing back and forth behind Robin's head and somehow everything else phased out. He was vaguely aware of a woman shouting but it seemed so distant, as if it all happened to someone else. So this was it. He would be slowly smashed to death, blow by blow, in front of the woman he loved. The sky was blue now, no sign of the rain that fell so hard that night, and a bird moved between the trees, jumping from branch to branch and heaving its little chest in joyful chirping. His head hurt, the pounds came more irregular now but the fall was bigger. He had been facing death before, more times than he could count. Much's pessimism had always annoyed him because he knew that there were ways out of the direst situations, and whining never worked. He had even been hanging from a noose, air being cut off as the ground disappeared beneath his feet. Yet this time was different, because never before had he felt such a _relief_ facing his own demise. He was a man that always fought for his life however pathetic it was. There had to be a tomorrow, things couldn't end now. The prospect of not being there as a new day dawned had always frightened him, the fact that the world could go on without him. But as his head hit the ground time and again the chirping bird became a blurry shadow and the trees were merely green strokes of paint against blue sky because his eyes couldn't keep up with the speed. And he didn't try to fight it. He made himself limp and left his resignation on Lady Fortune's desk. There were too many things too impossible to face. It would be easier this way.

Then something changed. The weight was lifted and his head was left lying still in the leaves. The world seemed to be spinning above him, he felt dazed and bewildered and the rough hostile hands were exchanged for new ones. But these were soft. They caressed and stroked him gently, almost tenderly, although they seemed worried and nervous. He became aware of the voices rising around him, first Robin's harsh yelling and then a female voice right by his side.

"No!" Robin screamed. "Let me go! He needs to be hurt! I have to… Let me go!!! Don't do this! Much, Much you understand. Tell them… And Will!"

"No Robin." Allan realised that Djaq's voice was trembling and strained as if she had been crying and it was so close to him that he could feel the air move. "I will not et you!"

"But why!? Why do you defend him? He is a killer!"

"Yes! And so am I. And you! We are all killers!"

"Marian… Djaq I have to do this for Marian! And he…"

"And I love him!"

Allan could feel the tension in the air, it was heavy like lead from all unspoken words crowding the space between the outlaws. _Well that sure shut them up_, he thought and forced himself to concentrate on the scene around him. Djaq was kneeling beside him. She had a hand around his neck and the other on his chest, and she was so close that he could feel every sharp, trembling breath.

"I love him…" she repeated a bit softer, barely more than a dejected whisper from her lips, and her fingers grazed the cloth over his heart. She must feel it beat like a drum against her palm, and he hoped she realised it was his body answering back, bouncing her words between them.

"Ah," Much finally broke the silence. "Well that explains a lot… Spices? Hah! Well that should have been obvious shouldn't it? After all what does it mean when a man buys expensive trinkets to a lady? I really can't believe you lot didn't see it..."

"Much." Robin had sunk down on the ground as Little John had let go of him, the berserker finally subdued, and he shook his head sadly. "It is enough. We cannot deal with this now. Allan…"

The sound of his name made Allan forced himself up into a sitting position and Djaq's hand moved down from his neck until it rested on his back instead. She was cradling him, forming a barrier between him and the rest of the outlaws. Yet she couldn't shield out their open hostility and Will's eyes burned and tore through Allan. He loved Will. And Will hated him.

"She is at the Black Sheep, in my room," Allan said. "Look, she is in a bad state Robin… Jess is looking after her. Said to get a priest. I thought Djaq was better though."

Silence fell again while Robin's eyes locked into Allan's. They weren't hateful in this moment, merely questioning as if he didn't quite understand what Allan was trying to say. Somehow '_Marian is dying_'entered the conversation without even being spoken out loud, and Robin wanted him to take it back.

"Well," Little John said finally. "That is settled then. We go to Nottingham."


End file.
